In the End I May Remain Alone
by SnapeKillsHRE
Summary: It's 2/25/1947, and Prussia is dying. Character death ahoy. xD


**AN: Second fanfic o3o Link to translation for the lyrics at the bottom~**

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Of all the ways he expected to go, it was never like this. Not curled up in bed, quietly dying. He had always thought that he would go down in an awesome blaze of glory, a final desperate charge before he bled out in a battlefield, corpse being trampled under the feet of his countrymen and enemies. But no, it was not to be. He was fated to die without so much as a punch thrown in his name. He wouldn't get one last chance for the thrill of battle that he had loved so much, that he had thrived on for all the years of his life.

* * *

_Komm in mein Boot_

_ein Sturm kommt auf_

_und es wird Nacht_

_Wo willst du hin_

_so ganz allein_

_treibst du davon_

* * *

How ironic.

How sad.

It was February 25th, 1947. He, the great Prussia, ex-empire and remnants of the Teutonic Order and state of Germany, was dying. Prussia was alone, aside from his little brother in the room by his bed. Germany would have been completely stoic, if it weren't for the tears sliding down his face.

Prussia began to talk, but his voice grated unnaturally against his throat and he began to cough.

"Bruder, don't try to—"

Gaining control of his voice, he gave Germany a weary glare.

"I'm going to die, anyway, West; it makes no difference." He said harshly, watching the way Germany's jaw clenched and stayed silent.

_

* * *

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Wer hält deine Hand

_wenn es dich_

_nach unten zieht_

_Wo willst du hin_

_so uferlos_

_die kalte See_

* * *

Prussia closed his scarlet eyes, still breathing; but only just. Behind his eyelids he saw once again the scene of battle, a scene from back in the day; oh, those glorious days. In his right hand he felt the slightest of twinges; his hand begged him to feel the handle of a sword once more, not the unhonorable, efficient, yet cold, disgusting gun which he hated so much. He clenched his hand tightly into a fist.

Why? Why him?

"West." Prussia said suddenly, opening his eyes again and unclenching his hand.

Germany looked up and into the crimson eyes of his older brother.

"Yes, bruder?"

_

* * *

_

Komm in mein Boot

_der Herbstwind hält_

_die Segel straff_

* * *

Prussia's hand weakly tugged off a necklace from his own neck; the iron cross, beaten and worn… much more so than his younger brother's. "Keep this safe for me."

Silently, Germany took it from him.

Why did he give up his prized 'Iron Cross': his symbol, his legacy? A futile attempt to prevent himself from being forgotten. Prussia in the back of his mind, knew he would be forgotten anyway, even with the Iron Cross in Germany's possession.

The people were ashamed, Germany would forget him to spare himself the pain of remembering his lost brother. Yes, he was going to be forgotten.

But he gave up his Iron Cross anyway. He wouldn't need it; the dead had no need for possessions from this world.

_

* * *

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Jetzt stehst du da an der Laterne

_mit Tränen im Gesicht_

_das Tageslicht fällt auf die Seite_

_der Herbstwind fegt die Straße leer_

* * *

Were the bloody struggles of his life- his blood-saturated history, all for nothing? All the work he did, to make himself great, to make himself a name, wasted and rotting in an old history book buried under piles of others books to be forgotten?

He briefly wondered where he was headed. Surely there was no place for him in heaven, but he didn't want to go to hell. No, not at all. But if there was no place for him in heaven there was no other option, was there?

_

* * *

_

Komm in mein Boot

_die Sehnsucht wird_

_der Steuermann_

_Komm in mein Boot_

_der beste Seemann_

_war doch ich_

* * *

He could feel his body, the body that had lasted him over several hundred years, dying. It scared him, it scared him that he could feel his life fading more and more as the seconds ticked by.

"West…" His hand groped around blindly and grabbed Germany's hand. His voice was softer now; weaker.

"Yes, Bruder?"

"I don't want to be alone."

"I'm right here with you, bruder."

"No you aren't." Prussia said quietly with a small, frail laugh.

Dying was a lonely affair.

_

* * *

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Jetzt stehst du da an der Laterne

_hast Tränen im Gesicht_

_das Feuer nimmst du von der Kerze_

_die Zeit steht still und es wird Herbst_

* * *

He looked up at the ceiling as his eyelids grew heavier. And slowly they closed, obscuring crimson irises. How anticlimactic, dying in such a way.

He surrendered his last breath.

And Prussia was no more.

_

* * *

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Sie sprachen nur von deiner Mutter

_so gnadenlos ist nur die Nacht_

_am Ende bleib ich doch alleine_

_die Zeit steht still_

_und mir ist kalt_

__

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Lyrics are from Seemann by Rammstein, lyrics and translation can be found here: .com/lyrics/rammstein-seemann-lyric-with-english-translation/


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